In Colombo, Rat, Ratty and Mouse took to entertaining me whilst I was working. This I could tolerate; they were quite amusing.

Cockroaches, on the other hand, I struggle with.

I could hear some scuffling noises in my room yesterday evening, and I thought, ‘Oh, a mouse!’ But then I paused, and listened. Whatever it was, it was moving at high speed. And there was definitely more than one. And it wasn’t coming from the floor. It was coming from the curtains.

Having seen a cockroach scuttling up the hall the other day, I knew they were around. About an inch and a half long, when the blackish brown beasts run, it sounds much like how I would imagine an animated tarantula skeleton would sound, if it were to suddenly gain a burst of life and run across the floor. They click and clack with a bony, tinny, deliberate sound.

So I stood in the bedroom, staring fixedly at the curtains, and sure enough, first one, then another, began to dance along the top of the curtain rail in a frenzy of confusion. I think it would help if the creatures had half a brain. They clearly don’t, making their antics all the more concerning. Their lack of intelligence makes me think they don’t know fear, which is what keeps many creepy crawlies away from humans. So if there’s no fear to deter them, what will?

A rustle to my left startled me out of my anxious fixation, and I leapt onto the bed at a speed similar to the roaches’, as I noticed another was stumbling around on the floor nearby. That brought the count up to three, in my room. And naturally, just as if the damn things were telling me not to count my blessings, another appeared in one of the doorways, head-butting the door repeatedly as it tried to navigate its way into the next room.

As the cockroaches franticly darted back and forth and left to right and up and down, I decided this wasn’t the room to be in anymore, so I retreated to my laptop in the roach-free room next door. I wandered through to the kitchen area, but all the staff had gone to one of the outhouses for the night. So I called Baba G, who understandably remonstrated that there really wasn’t much she could do from Colombo, told me just to call the staff, and hung up calling me a baby. I went back through to the kitchen area, and peered outside. It wasn’t late, but I just couldn’t face the idea of shouting for the staff to come to save me from the cockroaches. I refuse to be that much of a princess.

So I went back to my laptop, to ponder a while. I sat there, gazing at the sofa. It looked big enough. I could just bring the duvet and sleep there. I went back to my room to assess the situation. No better. And they weren’t restricting themselves to the curtain area anymore. I surveyed the mosquito net over my bed. Was it worth the risk? Could a mosquito net deter four manic cockroaches? I was dubious.

Back to my laptop again. I went back to considering the sofa, and counted up the things I would need from my room, like alarm clock, duvet, phone and so on. It would be a mission to get it all, whilst avoiding the roaches, but I decided it was do-able. But then, a rustle. One of the blighters appeared, crawling over the top of the sofa I’d been hoping to sleep on. Quite a few swear words escaped my mouth, I must say, as I stared in horror and anger at how obnoxious the little thing was being, foiling my plans. I mean, how dare it?! And then another appeared. In another corner of the room. Despairingly, I stared at my laptop. I played around with paints for a little while. The roach in the corner looked like it was trying to fly, unsuccessfully, so I Googled it. Can cockroaches fly?

Even as I was reading it online, ‘Y… E… S…’, the cockroach on the sofa clearly grew fed up with its leathery perch, took wonky aim, and flew straight at me. After a muffled scream, a flail and a leap to the other side of the room, I glanced back at the table. It crawled leisurely across the tablecloth, oblivious to the terror it had just called me.

That made up my mind for me. The mosquito net would just have to suffice, with no loose bits trailing anywhere on the floor. Defeated, I went back into my room (quickly jumping from the doorway to the bed), put my music on and went to have a shower. And then, something miraculous. I re-entered my room, and, apart from my music, there was silence. I threw a t-shirt at the curtains. No movement. I looked under the bed. Nothing. What a revelation! Fact of the day! Cockroaches do not like Dancing in the Moonlight. Toploader: Thank you. Thank you for ridding the roaches. Thank you for restoring what I thought would be a sleepless night. THANK YOU.

Baba G, you were useless. You get no thanks in this.

Just for you Baba G… 🙂